As much as I work on sucking all the marrow out of life, as much as I choose to be happy despite my health, the downward spiral continues. I thought if I was cheerful enough, hid how I'm feeling enough, it would get easier. But it hasn't.
Every time I go to the rheumatologist's office I have to fill in a form that asks about the joints bothering me and the length of time that I have symptoms in the morning. 3+ hours is my standard answer but I'm on the verge of changing that to 4+ hours. The mornings are certainly the worst. The energy, the breath, the pain, the joint movements required to get out of bed and then get dressed is beyond what I can do most days.
In my futile attempt to forget my issues on weekends I head straight from bed to the sewing machine. I may not be able to breathe or get dressed or even brush my teeth for hours (and forget about putting on my shoes anymore - I've had to go to open back shoes that I can just slip on) but I can sit in a chair and feed fabric through a sewing machine.
That's where I was when the knock on the door came this morning. Hubby returned with a box and let me know I had a new best friend.
Joan from Michigan.
Guess what Joan sent our way? Looks like there is another Christmas angel out there. Thank you, Joan!
